My Time of Need
by Sassy Satsuma
Summary: In Archer's experience, what you *said* really didn't matter. It was what  you then went on to *do* that made the difference. Chapter three of my  Toad/Archer mini-series/trilogy thing. Slash. Sequel to 'It's Beginning to Get to Me'.


_**Warning! **_This fic is **slash**, so if you don't like that, don't read. I should probably also warn that there will be a fair bit of swearing. When I say fair, I mean a lot. This is me after all, folks. :)

**Also! This chapter is rated M for explicit (ish) scenes. You have been warned.**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing to do with Archer, Toad or any other part of Modern Warfare as they all belong to Infinity Ward. I'm just amateur writer who likes to borrow them a little. :)

**A note from Sassy: **Ok, so I'll admit it, Toad/Archer is one of my favourite pairings ever and therefore every so often my muse pokes me into writing another instalment in my Toad/Archer mini-series. This one kind of rounds off my little trilogy of background fics about these two, but that being said I'll probably end up revisiting them when my muse beckons anyway. As always, huge love, cuddles and admiration to my beta, **MisMot**, without her Toarcher probably wouldn't exist in my mind anyway. And a big thanks goes to **UrgentOrange** too for her fantastic medical knowledge. :)

Dedicated to everyone that's supported my strange Toad/Archer love. More specifically, **MisMot**, **duvalia**, **Jolineloveszombie**, **strude**, **Awreel**, **PhonyPrincess**, **asdfqwerm**, **harrypotterlover123**, **AL0LT0, xGhostxStealth** and **Leen141** for giving me such wonderful reviews along the way! :)

Also, if you haven't read _Spotter_ and _It's Beginning to Get to Me_then this definitely won't make a lot of sense. Both are on my profile page. :)

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><p>'<em>And I need you to recover<br>Because I can't make it on my own.'_

_**M4, part 2 – Faunts**_

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><p>For fourteen years, he'd been working, training and striving to be the best soldier that he could be. He'd been to places he'd never thought he'd see, done things that even in retrospect felt impossible. But whatever the scenario, however big the challenge might have felt, Archer had always been safe in the knowledge that above everything else, his training would be the thing to save him. It was an investment, one that had served him well and kept him alive, even within the 141.<p>

But with his hands steeped in his partner's blood and bullets flying overhead, it suddenly hadn't been Archer's life on the line. Toad's very existence had been hanging in the balance and even _with_ all his years of hard work and training, Archer still felt horribly unprepared.

They'd been assisting Colombia's Jungla commandos, assaulting a major weapons and drug cache with the intent to destroy it and in doing so cripple a local drug lord. They were properly equipped and were armed with solid enough intel that in theory the mission should have been straight forward and problem free. But reality was always ready to throw a curveball and a fluke bullet ended up piercing Toad's abdomen, throwing he and Archer into a whole new battle for survival.

He'd acted on pure instinct, pulling Toad backwards into cover with him. His body had been heavy, over encumbered with armour and dead weight. Blood had poured from his abdomen and soaked the areas of his shirt that could be seen, slick red liquid coating Toad's fingers as he fumbled at his wound. Archer had remembered slapping them away, tearing at Chris' shirt so that he could see the damage that had been done and try to stop the bleeding. He'd wanted to comfort Chris, to try and rid him of the pain that he was so obviously feeling, but there'd been no time, Archer himself screaming into his comms for Chemo the instant he realised the severity of his partner's injuries.

From then on, time had passed in a blur. Chemo had managed to get Toad as stable as he could in the field, but everyone present knew that it was touch and go. They'd got him to an exfil point for CASEVAC, but that was only half of the battle won, especially when Archer was forced to watch the helicopter dust off without him, his boots firmly on the ground whilst Toad was carried away for further medical attention. In retrospect, that was the hardest part; knowing that they still had a job to do when the only thing he wanted was to get his friend to safety and know that he'd be ok. If anything, it had made Archer fight harder that day.

The second they'd gotten back to base, Archer had made for the Infirmary with Chemo, thankful that Shepard hadn't asked for a debrief other than the short one they'd shared when they returned to their FOB. His efforts had been in vain however, as Archer was quickly told that he'd be in the way, the pristine white door leading to Toad's room in the Infirmary unceremoniously shut in his face. The act made Archer's blood boil. It wasn't enough that he was blatantly the closest thing to family Toad had. All that seemed to matter was a little piece of paper proving that fact.

So instead, he'd waited. The Infirmary corridor seemed as good a place as any and Archer had slid down the white washed wall, drawing his knees up to his chin. The tiled floor was hard beneath him, the wall cold when he leant his head back and closed his eyes. But for however uncomfortable he may have been, he'd be damned if anyone was going to make him move this time.

_A bright, insanely hot Sunday afternoon. If he'd been on leave, Jeff would have probably spent it sitting in his local beer garden, slowly sipping at pints of cider whilst his eyes flicked through whatever tome of pseudointellectual bullshit he was set on reading. As it was, he spent it throwing punches at Chris in the gym. _

_Well, maybe there were __**worse**__ things to have to do for training. _

"_Fuck…" There was a small dribble of blood trickling from the corner of Toad's mouth and he wiped it off on the back of his hand, his eyes obstinate as they glared at Jeff. "That one __**stung**__." _

"_Maybe you should duck next time, mate." Archer smirked. _

"_Like hell I should. That was a cheap shot and you fucking know it." _

"_Then you should pay more attention." Jeff tested Chris as he spoke, jabbing his right hand out for his ribs. The move was obvious and the other man blocked him with ease. He spoke again, his voice as patronising as he could make it. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" _

_The truth was, when Toad was focused, he made for a formidable opponent. He'd move quickly, fluidly and it would take the entirety of Archer's concentration to be able to anticipate his next blow. The resulting challenge was addictive. But for this side of Toad to be seen, Archer knew full well that he would have to first silence Chris' smart mouth. Fortunately, there was one, fool proof way to achieve this. Provocation. _

_The fight became so close that all it took was one miscalculation on Archer's part to swing the odds against him. He moved in for a right hook, but he put too much weight behind the action, catching his body off balance. Toad noticed the error immediately with a well-timed punch aimed at Jeff's left side, further unbalancing him when Jeff moved to block him. From then on, all it took was a straight hit to Archer's left cheek to finish the job and send him toppling backwards to the padded gym floor. _

"_So…" Toad's shit eating grin was back as he stood over him triumphantly, his tone smug despite the fact that he was panting heavily. "You were saying?" _

"_Yeah, yeah." Archer rolled his eyes. "You got lucky that time." _

"_Whatever you say, old man." Chris teased, although he held his arm out to him expectantly. "Lemme help you up there. You might put your back out." _

"_And give a cocky little shit like you the satisfaction, eh?" Archer shook his head, ignoring Toad's hand and clambering to his feet by himself. He gave the younger man a rough, if playful shove. "Not fucking likely." _

"_Yeah, well, you'd miss me if I wasn't around." _

"_**Please**__. Next time they might send me someone who actually knows a thing or two about wind speed."_

"_Maybe, but they wouldn't have my good looks or charm." Toad grinned, tossing a water bottle in Archer's general direction. He twisted open a bottle of his own, downing a good measure of it before speaking again. "Admit it… __**mate**__. The base would be way too quiet without me." _

"_Well you know me; I like my peace and quiet." Archer grunted in return, bringing the water bottle up to his lips. "Doesn't sound all that bad, really." _

Barely a month later and Archer was already eating his words.

For as long as he could remember, he'd been a man who was more about actions than he was about words. Growing up, he'd seen his parents making promises to each other continually; ones that they rarely kept. As a child, he'd realised that expressing himself vocally was difficult, that somehow the right words always seemed out of reach. As he'd gotten older, this had become far easier, but by that point, he simply didn't _want_ to vocalise things anymore. After all, from his own experience, most of the time _what _you said simply didn't matter. It was what you then went on to _do_ that made the difference.

As a result, he expected everyone around him to be able to interpret his actions perfectly, for them not to need any kind of verbal acknowledgment. But with Toad lying in a hospital bed bleeding out, Archer was suddenly filled with regret. There were so many things that he hadn't said, hadn't_ shown_ and at the very back of his thoughts Archer couldn't help but wonder what might happen if he never got the chance to say them again…

"Talk to me, Jimmy." A nearby door swung open and Archer didn't even bother giving the medic time to pause as he left the infirmary ward that housed Toad. He hauled himself off of the floor in a single, fluid motion, deliberately putting himself in Chemo's way.

"He's stable." The medic shrugged, his face quirking into a weak smile. "He should be counting his fucking lucky stars, but knowing Chris, I doubt he will."

"That's all I get?"

"How much more do you want, mate?" Jimmy sighed, running a hand across the top of his closely shaven head. "It was a good, clean shot, only mercy was that it missed his kidneys and stomach. That doesn't mean to say that the damage that has been done is mild, mind you. But it's all reparable at least."

"And how is he?"

"Right now? Out cold. He's still sedated and I don't see that changing for a good few hours. He's lost one hell of a lot of blood so he's going to feel weak when he wakes up." Concern must have been obvious across Archer's features and Chemo softened, his hand reaching out and gripping the sniper's shoulder firmly. "They've got him on transfusions and fluids which right now are what he needs the most. He just needs time and rest to take it all in."

"Thanks, mate." Archer nodded slowly, being careful to shrug off Chemo's hand so not to offend him. "For everything. You saved his arse out there."

"I'm not so sure that I did. Sure, I came and stabilised him, but you were the one who dragged him out of there. Hell, if you hadn't slowed the bleeding straight away then he'd have lost too much blood and it wouldn't even matter _where_ he'd caught the damned bullet." The medic smiled again. "You did him proud today. Now the best you can do is get yourself cleaned up." He nodded to Archer's still muddy and bloody clothes. "Come find us in the rec room when you're done. You could probably use the distraction."

"Nah, mate." Jeff shook his head decisively. "I think we both know there's only one place I want to be right now. Sure as hell, isn't the rec room."

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><p>Fifteen minutes later, Archer was showered and dressed, his aching body forced into a fresh grey t-shirt and black combats. Five minutes later than that and he was at Toad's bedside.<p>

He'd seen enough of his friends lying in hospital beds not to be horrified, but the sight of Chris wired up like a piece of machinery still managed to catch him a little off guard. The younger man was pale, his normally tanned and weathered skin now almost as pallid as the stark white bed sheets. Thick, grey bags hung from his eyes, a dark shadow of stubble covering his neck and jaw. He was suddenly aged, gaunt and fragile, a world away from the 25 year old who often made Archer himself feel so damned ancient in comparison.

Pulling a chair to his bedside, Jeff moved as closely as he could manage, trying to avoid the equipment strewn around Chris' bed. He was wired up to an I.V and a blood bag, the thin tubes snaking into his left elbow, whilst another I.V bag fed into his right arm. An oxygen tube fed into his nose, held in place by white surgical tape, whilst a pulse oximeter was clasped clumsily around his right index finger. The thin bed sheets had been drawn up to his waist, his bare yet bandaged chest completely visible, only moving with frequent shallow breaths. The rest of the room was dominated by the low level hum of monitoring equipment that Jeff didn't even pretend to be able to understand.

Now seated, Archer wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to do. He felt restless, frustrated and at the very worst, _helpless_. Seeing Toad lying there, totally beyond the help of everyone now that the medics had been and gone, made him feel more useless than he'd ever felt in his life, his stomach sickened and churning within his own abdomen. And yet at the same time, Jeff was hit by the realisation that he wouldn't want to be sat anywhere else until Toad was up and out of the Infirmary.

Leaning forwards, Archer found a space on Toad's bed that was free of wires. He leant his forearms on the sheets, his chin resting on the back of his hands. A heavy sigh left his mouth before he could stop it and he closed his eyes, flexing the muscles in his back in an attempt to make himself that little bit more comfortable. When he opened his eyes again, they instantly gravitated to Toad's face.

"Come on, mate. One little knock and you're out for the count, eh?" The words left his mouth a little hoarser than he'd anticipated. "You can stop pretending. We both know that you're not going to leave me like this." He laughed to himself, although the sound fell heavy on the otherwise silent room. For a split second Archer longed for Toad's laugh, the unchecked sound that usually meant that the younger man was teasing him. His partner remained resolutely quiet and a pang of emotion stabbed Jeff hard in the very pit of his stomach. When he spoke again, his words were unsure, almost nervous. "You do _know_, don't you? For fuck's sake, Chris. You have to know that there's someone waiting for you to come back. That _I'm _waiting for you to come back."

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><p>"<em>Jeff…"<em>

He instantly jumped awake at the sound of his name, his eyes leaping to Toad's face. The sniper was still unconscious.

"Thought you could use a coffee, mate." _MacTavish. _Archer's haze of thoughts suddenly came into focus. Aside from Chris, the Captain was the only other person who he tolerated using his first name. Disappointed, Archer glanced to his right, his hands moving up and accepting the white mug of coffee that MacTavish handed to him.

"Cheers."

"Don't worry about it." The Captain's eyes never left Toad. "How long have you been holed up in here?"

"Not long." Archer shrugged, lifting his right wrist so that he could glance at his watch. The hour hand told him that he'd only been asleep about two hours, although the way his vision seemed to swim in and out of focus with weariness made him feel as though it had been a lot longer. He took a small sip of coffee, the hot liquid slipping noticeably down his throat.

"Jimmy gave me a full report. He told me that you'd be here." The Captain paused, obviously choosing his words carefully. When he spoke again, his tone made it clear that he was treading carefully with his next question. "You sure that you wouldn't be better off in the rec room?"

"Doing what?" Archer wasn't angry as he finally turned to MacTavish, his voice weary more than anything else. "I'd only be sat there trying to stop myself from thinking that I should be _here_." He shook his head, glancing back to Toad. "Chris has no family… I'm… _all _he's got. But that doesn't mean that he has to wake up alone, strapped to every machine known to man and scared shitless."

"You're right." The Captain nodded, a brief sigh escaping his lips. His right hand graduated to the back of his neck. "And for what it's worth, he's lucky." His left hand found Archer's shoulder, a short, yet supportive pat all that was necessary. "But you come find me if you need some sleep. No one's saying that you have to keep this vigil on your own, ok?"

"_Yeah_." Jeff smiled weakly. "I appreciate it, mate." It was true. No one _was_ saying that. But that didn't mean that Archer had any intention of letting anyone else do something that he considered _his_ responsibility.

His body was jerking slightly and it took Archer a split second to realise that he wasn't the one making himself move. The realisation tore him from sleep faster than anything.

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><p>"Hey… <em>fat ass<em>." The voice that greeted him was quiet; more of a dry croak than anything else, but it was definitely Chris'. Archer's eyes snapped open. "… You're crushing my I.V.…"

"_Fuck_…" Archer straightened up instantly, something he immediately regretted from the stiff, numb ache that overcame his neck and shoulders. He winced although it did little to mar the smile that was beginning to uplift the corners of his mouth. As usual, words escaped him. "You're awake?"

"Never been all that great at talking in my sleep." Chris teased, although the resulting smirk was lost within his still pale and sickly features. He made a weak attempt at moving, but let out a sharp hiss of pain when the action reached his abdomen. He shot Jeff a pathetic look. "What the hell did I miss?"

"You forgot to duck." Archer said bluntly, although his usual grumpy tone was absent from the statement.

"I remember that part… _Shit_…" The younger sniper rolled his eyes. "What came after?"

"I'm not sure; I couldn't CASEVAC out with you. They brought you back, put you into surgery. Even when the rest of us got back to base, the doctors would only let Chemo near you."

"I don't give a shit about any of that." Toad shook his head. "What about the op? Did we get it done?"

"We blew that shithole sky high." Archer smiled weakly, inwardly despairing at his friend. "And before you ask, yes, you _were_ the only wanker daft enough to get yourself shot out there."

"_Good_." Chris seemed to settle a little after that, his eyes fluttering closed momentarily, as if his eyelids had suddenly become that little bit heavier. When he managed to open them again, he kept them firmly fixed on Archer. "I won't try and ask you if you took any hits. You wouldn't tell me anyway."

"A few cuts and bruises, the usual." He rolled his eyes dismissively, turning his attention to a jug of lukewarm water by Toad's bed. He began pouring a small amount of it out into a plastic cup. "Come on, I bet your throat is killin' you." Archer dropped a straw into the cup and angled it towards Chris' mouth. "Jimmy said you should be able to handle a little fluid."

"Please…_ promises_." For a split second, the old, teasing and flirtatious Toad was back but he soon became lost in a choked splutter. Leaning forward, Chris gave Archer an angry look when he realised that the sniper wasn't letting him take hold of the cup of water himself. "Wait… you're _feeding_ me now? I'm not-"

"Just shut it and _drink_." Jeff sighed, angling the straw into Chris' mouth as if to prove his point further. "You're still all rigged up to all these tubes and shit. You can give up the independent fuck attitude just this once."

"Oh yeah?" Toad laughed weakly in between sips. "That's something coming from _you_."

"Well fuck you too…" His words should have been bitter, but there was no denying the affection behind them in Archer's voice. Even when it drove him insane, Toad's constant need to prove his independence was one of the things that he admired the most about him. "When I'm the one laid out in a hospital bed_ then_ you can get all the revenge that you want."

"Quit making it sound so tempting. I'll shoot you myself."

"_Pfft_… you'd probably miss."

"I can't have been out all that long then." Toad smiled, finishing the water and leaning back against his pillows fully. "You're still an asshole." He grinned when Archer merely laughed in response and the room descended back into quiet, the two men sitting in silence. It wasn't awkward, somehow times like these simply weren't with Toad, but Archer did find himself noticing a new emotion reflected back in his friend's eyes, one that he couldn't quite read. It unsettled him, but he didn't voice it, Chris speaking again before he could actually put his question into words. "So…" Toad worried his lip. "You gonna tell me how long you've been camped out in here?"

"A while." Somehow admitting any more than that felt a little much. "Let's be honest, what the hell else was I going to be doing?"

"Drinking your own weight in whisky somewhere?" Toad laughed quickly. "That's what _I'd _have been doing."

"Really?" Archer cocked an arrogant eyebrow. "You're sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I said. If that had been me lying there instead of you, you'd just be getting hammered?" His tone wasn't hurt, but that didn't mean that Archer appreciated the insinuation that Chris was making.

"Course I wouldn't… I mean… I just-" The younger man ran out of words, his eyes suddenly not sure where to rest. He inhaled deeply. "I just didn't expect you to be here. When I woke up I mean."

"I guess you wouldn't." Jeff shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "You've always been insecure about that." He paused, his eyes focusing on Chris'. "Remember what I said months ago? The night I had to pick your drunken arse up off the barracks floor?"

"I don't really-"

"You asked me why I gave a shit and I said we were partners." Archer spoke quickly, not really giving Toad the time to answer his question. "As far as I'm concerned, nothing's changed." He swallowed hard, the words suddenly feeling hesitant on his tongue. "If anything, you've become more important, alright?"

"But-"

"Leave it for now, mate." Smiling briefly, Archer stood up, clearing his throat for lack of anything better to do. "I need a fag for a start." He started fumbling in his pockets for his cigarettes. "Besides, I should probably let the lads know you're awake."

"I guess." Toad sighed. "I'm sure the doctors will find plenty of excuses to try and stick their needles in me."

"Grow a pair and you'll be fine." Archer smirked, pushing a cigarette in between his lips. He spoke around it, his words slightly muffled by the obstruction. "I'll come by and see you soon, ok? Try and get some kip."

"_Jeff_-"

"Save it, eh?" He nodded towards him quickly, although he was already turning his back and heading for the door. "Just rest, ok? For me at least."

And then Archer left. Not because he didn't want to talk to Toad anymore, not even because he didn't want to face up to how he felt. It was simply because, once again, words were the one thing that were failing him.

* * *

><p>A month later, the world had fallen back into some kind of semblance of order.<p>

Another assignment, this time providing support to the forces already deployed in Afghanistan. A squad of ten men had been handpicked by Shepherd himself and deployed for three weeks, although in the end the operation had become more about training the local armed forces than anything else. All in all, it had been the men's least favourite kind of mission, one that involved just as much waiting around as they experienced back at their normal base of operations, only that this time they were forced to wait around in intolerable heat to top it all off.

For Archer, it was the worst kind of assignment. Not only did it not have enough distraction for his tastes, but it had meant leaving on an operation for the first time in just under a year without Toad. Chris' absence was something that he went on to feel keenly.

That night, Archer was half-heartedly cleaning his kit. Sitting cross legged on the floor of room, his desert uniform was strewn out across the floor in front of him, one of his boots clasped in his hands as he examined the scuffed leather. Although within the 141 there wasn't the same kind of scrutiny over kit as there had been back in his regular infantry days, Archer like most of the others still took a great deal of pride in maintaining his kit. After all, it was one army drill that proved pretty hard to shake.

A knock at his door made Archer jump and he turned round, looking over his shoulder at the door as though it might give him an inclination as to who had knocked. Oddly enough it didn't and Archer toyed with the idea of ignoring whoever it was. Another knock however and the loud voice that followed it soon told Archer that that simply wasn't an option.

"_Come on, Jeff. I know you're in there." _

Chris. Archer heard the door handle 'clunk' as it was pushed down, the action slow and hesitant. When he didn't call out to stop him, Toad opened the door all the way, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Shit, bro. Anyone else would think that you were trying to ignore me."

"Is that even possible?" Quickly standing, Jeff turned around to face the other man. A rough smile pushed itself across his features. The last time he'd seen Chris he'd still been lying in a hospital bed. "I've only been back a few hours. I figured that you'd come see me."

"Making the invalid do the legwork, right?" Toad pretended to look offended. "_Thanks._"

"Invalid, huh? You look alright to me."

"Yeah well, don't let the fact that I'm vertical fool you." Chris shook his head. "I can run about five yards."

"Nothing new there." Archer smirked.

"_Fuck you_." Chris rolled his eyes, although he moved that little bit closer in the process. "The bandages are becoming smaller though, so I guess it's not all bad."

"Good to hear." Jeff nodded slowly, his eyes unintentionally resting on Chris' abdomen for a split second, noting how his khaki t shirt hung that little bit looser off his frame. He'd lost weight. He diverted his attention back to Toad's face, his eyes at least appreciating the fact that the sniper was looking one hell of a lot more alive than the last time he'd seen him. He was less pale and gaunt, the bags under his eyes from disrupted sleep long since gone and the shadow of stubble along his jaw now a deliberate one. "You look good, though… _Better_, I mean."

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that to you?" Toad grinned, stepping closer with the same cocky arrogance that he always seemed to possess. He reached out, pulling the collar of Archer's shirt open and raising an eyebrow. "Looks like all you did was lounge around in the sun for three weeks."

"Not a lot you can do when you're waiting on orders." Archer shrugged, although when Toad moved to withdraw his hand he reached out and quickly grabbed his wrist, holding him in place. He smiled at the other man's surprised reaction, amused that he'd managed to catch him so off guard. Watching his reaction closely, Archer weighed up the words swimming around his head; his thoughts strangely clear all of a sudden. In the end, he decided that he'd kept some things far too quiet. "It wasn't the same without you, you know."

"Yeah well, watching you guys go off and have all the fun wasn't so hot either." Chris sighed. "'Sides… Everyone knows that you need me out there so that you've always got someone to save your ass."

"I'm pretty sure_ I_ was the one saving _your_ arse last time, mate." Jeff smirked in response, pulling him that little bit closer by the wrist. For once, Toad didn't fight him.

"Then I guess I just need the chance to pay you back." Toad laughed, tilting his head to one side thoughtfully. "Although you can drop the tough guy act now. The whole base knows about your bedside vigil."

"How did you-"

"I talked to Ozone." His features suddenly became that little bit more serious. "Apparently you didn't leave the Infirmary the whole time I was out. Not even to fucking smoke." He smiled, his voice lighter when he spoke again. "I guess that's why you looked like shit when I actually _did _wake up."

"I told you. We're-"

"Partners, right?" Toad shook his head, laughing again. "I know. But if that was just because you felt guilty… " He tailed off for a second, sighing in frustration. "Look, I'm going to take hits, we both know that. But I'm pretty damned sure that if I do, it'll be my fault, not yours. Ok?"

"It wasn't guilt." Archer stated bluntly. He grip on Toad's wrist loosened a little. "Sure, I was feeling it a little but that wasn't the whole of it." He shrugged, suddenly unable to meet C hris' gaze head on. "I didn't want to lose you. Not like what happened with Bishop. Hell, with him I couldn't even sit by his fucking bedside and say goodbye."

"He knew though." Chris admitted softly, hanging his head. "He had a best friend in you. I don't think that he'd have forgotten that. As for me…" Pausing, Chris seemed to wait until Archer met his eye before he spoke again. "I guess if I hadn't woken up that day… I'd have known too." He laughed nervously. "Just for the record."

This time, it wasn't that words were failing him. This time they simply weren't enough.

Jeff pushed forwards on instinct, bringing their faces closer together. Who leaned in first, Archer wasn't sure, but their lips met in a kiss that was hardly tentative. It felt like years since they'd shared any kind of contact and Archer immediately tilted his head in an attempt to bring them closer, their bodies suddenly flush against each other. Familiar hands rested on his shoulders and Archer moved his so that they pulled Toad's hips closer, ever mindful of the younger man's abdomen all the while. For a few minutes, neither of them pushed for more.

It was Toad who made the next move. His palms still flat against Archer's back, he pulled him backwards slowly, their feet stumbling when they didn't even attempt to break the kiss. They kept moving until Toad's back met the wall with a start, forcing a soft hiss to leave his mouth. Archer immediately moved back a little, although this did nothing to stop Toad as he moved forwards to suck at Jeff's neck, his hands instinctively beginning to loosen his belt.

"…You're sure?" Archer didn't intend for the words to leave his mouth as gruff and heavy as they did.

"_Screw you_, Jeff." There was another, harder suck at the join of his neck and shoulder, a tongue quickly moving to soothe the reddened skin. "I'm not made of fucking glass."

From there, Archer had needed very little more in terms of reassurance.

Their mouths met again, a welcome distraction as their hands wrestled with their belts and trousers, frantic fingers attempting to push the irritating fabric out of the way. As soon as their clothes fell and pooled around their ankles, Chris' hand was there between them, his pace slow at first, agonising. The sensation drove Archer wild, his thoughts no longer feeling his own. Ignoring the satisfied, smug noise that Chris made from the action, he pushed closer to him, his mouth sucking at the skin below his ear hard enough to bruise. In compliance, Chris' hand began to speed up, almost doubling in speed when Jeff's hand snaked down to join it.

Breathless and sated, Archer slumped forwards, his forehead resting clumsily against Chris'. He could feel his heart hammering beneath his ribcage, his chest rising and falling deeply as he attempted to repay his body's oxygen debt. With an almost reluctant sigh, he pulled away, just in time to see the flash of a grin pass across Chris' face. The corners of Jeff's mouth twitched in response and he allowed himself a soft, if slightly despairing laugh.

"I should go shower." Toad said quickly, pushing himself away from the wall. He bent down, pulling his jeans up his legs quickly.

"You could stay."

"What? And shower here?" Chris gave him a curious look. "A little stupid when my room's just up the hall."

"You could shower here_… Then_ stay." Archer's tone was blunt. "Or not. It's up you."

"I guess it would save me the embarrassment of making it down the hall." Chris shrugged, although a knowing smirk crept across his features. "Ok. _Deal_."

"Fine by me." Archer nodded, stepping out of his way and idly waving over towards the bathroom. "But don't spend too long in there admiring that pretty boy face of yours or I'll drag you out myself."

"Oh yeah?" Toad smirked, turning round just as he neared the bathroom door. He quirked an arrogant eyebrow. "_Promises_…"

* * *

><p>"<em>Will you comfort me, in my time of need?<br>Can you take away the pain of hurtful deeds?  
>Cause when we need it most, there's no rain at all.<br>And the dust just settles right there on the feed."_

_In My Time of Need – Ryan Adams_

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><p>I'm going to resist the urge to ramble, because I've already indulged in gratuitous lyrics! But as always, a huge thank you to you for reading! Your support, favourites and reviews literally continue to make writing all the more rewarding. :D And if there are any more closet Toarcher fans out there, make yourselves heard! It's nice not to be on my own ;)<p>

-x-Sass-x-


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